


Howl

by Cupcakemolotov



Series: come alive [25]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: A ltitle heat, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mentions of Past Torture, Mentions of past deaths, No Smut, Werewolf!Caroline, Witch!Klaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:22:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakemolotov/pseuds/Cupcakemolotov
Summary: Damon bargains for Caroline to be the bait for his trap, not realizing that she's always been the prize.





	Howl

**Klaroline: Caroline is a werewolf who has to distract Klaus for reasons. Sexy times, please!**

Apologies, no smut here. And it was a smidge angsty. The smut would have made it not short.

* * *

Caroline did not want to be here.

The gallery was too warm, even with the hum of the air conditioners working overtime. New Orleans was humid and sticky, even hours after the sun had gone down. It'd been ten years since she'd breathed in the familiar air of the bayou, stood and watched fireflies blink lazily in the hot summer nights. The heart of her wolf had missed it, until it was a familiar ache in her blood she'd learned to ignore.

If she'd had her way, it'd be another decade before she'd even acknowledge the stare she could feel burning along her spine. Stubbornly, she took a slow sip of the champagne that had turned nearly tepid in her hand. She'd known the moment she'd arrived that he'd been expecting her, which meant that Damon hadn't kept her name off the guest list as she'd demanded.

Idiot.

Bonnie Bennett had sounded resigned, frustrated past even her wealth of patience, when they'd spoken. Once Caroline had heard the details of this truly asinine plan, she'd understand. But any chance she'd had to wiggle out of this ridiculous was squashed the moment she'd been offered a clean slate by the witch. Leaving the bayou had come with a price. Caroline had understood that as she'd buried her mother, Liz's blood black underneath her nails.

But it hadn't just been her responsibilities, her oaths that she'd walked away from. Her relationship had been new and tentative, the clawing possession of her wolf hot in her veins. And it had cost her her mom. And as much as it hurt to be in the same room with those memories, the taste of him lingered on her tongue even a decade later, Caroline would do what was necessary to sever the ties that could keep her beneath the thumbs of the Salvatores.

This private war they fought had been lost years before. Elena was gone, the pack decimated. She was one of the few remaining relics from a battle that no one would remember in a century.

But if paying her debts meant standing in a crowded gallery in a pretty dress, and ignoring the way her skin ached for a man she'd walked away from once before, so be it. She was bait for a plot that would fail. It was a promise and an excuse, a chance to discover if maybe she could stop running.

"You look beautiful, Caroline."

Her lashes fluttered shut for one, precious second as she absorbed the impact of that low voice. Draining her glass, she turned to face the unavoidable confrontation. She'd both dreaded and craved it, these past weeks as she waited for tonight. She'd dreamed of it, woken with sweat slick skin and an arousal that had lingered.

Caroline turned, and let herself absorb the impact of him. He'd looked good all those years ago in Henley's, the familiar tangle of chains and leather against his throat. Tonight he was dressed in a dark suit, the white of his dress shirt crisp and perfect even in the heat. Those curls she'd loved to twist between her fingers, to tug until he shivered against her, were longer than she'd seen then before. Even his eyes were just a touch different, the magic that clung to his skin like a warning leaving just a hint of yellow among the blue.

He'd had finally grown into his magic.

"Klaus," she murmured. "It's been a while."

"So it has," he agreed, gaze skimming down the length of her in pursual that was as thorough as it was quick. Caroline felt the faintest bite of magic as she handed her empty glass to a server, made no attempt to hide the silver chain she'd worn since she was eighteen. It marked her as werewolf, and it marked her as dangerous. "What brings you to my city?"

New Orleans had truly become his city. The events that had left her mother dead, that had created such a gaping weakness in the magic that Esther had once used to cripple her children, Klaus had certainly capitalized on them. What remained of her pack had been ruthlessly pushed back into the bayou, and the ancestral magic that had once held a stranglehold had been reduced to ashes.

Caroline had sat on the pitiful bed in her hotel room in Milwaukee, eyes swollen and chest aching, and she'd watched the famed cemeteries of New Orleans burn with a wide smile. But those memories did not serve her well tonight, not with Klaus watching her with eyes that would miss few weaknesses.

"I was invited," she said simply. Klaus didn't so much as flicker an eyelash, and she felt her lips curl slightly. "But you already knew that."

A slight tilt of his head. "Subtlety is a rare talent."

Caroline nearly snorted. "Is that what it's called?"

A hint of a smile on his face now, a gleam she couldn't place behind his eyes. "I was left under the impression you'd be wearing something a touch more… red."

Her breath nearly caught, at the rumble that deepened his voice. For a single moment, she was thrown back mentally ten years, to Klaus' hands on her skin, his lips at her chest. Her dress that night hadn't been red, but what she'd worn beneath it had.

"I imagine tonight will hold many disappointments," Caroline dismissed. She forced herself to wonder how Bonnie was holding up, instead of wondering what he wore beneath his tux. Bonnie straddled a careful line between the factions in the city, but Caroline did not. Her loyalty had been given years before, and no matter how far she ran, that loyalty hadn't changed.

One day, her wolf would hunt Damon Salvatore like the dog he was.

"Ah," Klaus murmured, gaze dipping to linger on the rich blue that hugged her breasts. "I didn't say it was a disappointment."

Her lips parted, at the hungry way he looked at her, but then his gaze darted behind her and his smile was nearly wolfish. Caroline turned to follow that gaze, and she pressed her lips together to hold her amusement as she caught movements against the shadows. It was clear that whatever distraction they'd hoped her presence would create hadn't worked.

There was a sudden press of heat against her spine, and Klaus was so close she could smell him. Heat and cologne, the slightest hint of sage, and an unmistakable thread of arousal.

She nearly moaned.

"Damon Salvatore remains a fool," Klaus said conversationally against her ear. As if he wasn't sliding calloused fingertips down her bare spine. "But I'll spare his life, since he brought you to me."

As if that was a concession. Living was far more difficult than dying, and Damon, Caroline knew, would find every painful avenue of it. Whatever joy had been possible had been broken the day he carried Elena's body into the bayou.

"And you imagine I wish to be caught?" Caroline said just as softly, feeling the way goosebumps chased each delicate brush of his fingers. She was thankful her dress hid the hard points of her nipples. Klaus was a witch, nearly unbearably powerful, but human noses were weak. For her, his was a drug, and she struggled against the urge to press her nose into his throat and drown.

"I think you're far more clever than those old friends of yours have ever realized," Klaus said. "When Bonnie Bennett struck a deal with my family, when the smelll and ash of the cemetery still burned in the lungs of my enemies, she was very particular regarding her terms. And when I ground the bones of those responsible for your mother's death, stretched muscle and flesh across fire as they screamed and begged, she took account for you."

"Bonnie is my friend." She didn't turn, couldn't step away from the way he felt against her. She'd known the story he told her, she had listened to Bonnie's ragged recounting each night.

A soft laugh. "I know. I cannot force you to stay, Caroline, if what you truly wish is to leave."

She didn't wish to leave, but she wasn't certain she could stay. Not yet. She'd learned to forgive, even if she couldn't forget, but some scars never fully healed. But standing with Klaus so close it would take the simplest of motions to settle against him, she was never surer that one day she would.

A slow, feather soft brush of his mouth against her nape sent a shudder down her spine. Her wolf bowed for no one, it recognized no equal but one. Just that one touch, a single caress, and her blood heated.

"But that does not mean I cannot tempt you to stay. To come home sooner." Another kiss, this one against her shoulder. A slight hint of tongue. "Will you let me?"

Yes.


End file.
